The Summoning
by Allen92909
Summary: Sam and Dean probe a series of ritualistic murders that involve witches being sacrificed for unknown reasons. As they investigate the learn that something or someone may be unleashed into the world.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Supernatural or the boys.

This is my second story about the boys. For those of you reading, it does follow my first story, Break Down. If you have not read it, all you really need to know is that Sam spent the last week or so being tormented by his visions of hell, reliving each horrifying moment. I meant to post this as I finished the last story, but this one required a bit more research. I hope you enjoy.

* * *

**THE SUMMONING**

**CHAPTER 1**

The Impala roared down the desolate highway. Sam and Dean usually had a knack for driving on the roads less traveled and this was no exception. The day was turning into evening and the moon was starting to show itself to the world.

Sam opened his eyes with a start. He had drifted off, though he hadn't intended on doing so. 'Ramblin' Man' was playing on the radio and it seemed to suite the brother's lives quite well. They spent hours, days rambling the countryside chasing various ghosts and demons, hunting them down. That was their lives as Hunters.

He gazed around, looking for a sign, a billboard, anything to indicate where they might have been. "Where are we?" He asked Dean.

Dean gave his brother a quick side glance. "I'm not sure, but I saw a sign for a Wendy's." He replied.

"Wendy's? And you're stopping there?" Sam seemed to question.

"Yeah, they have a killer bacon cheeseburger." Dean said.

"Killer, as in it will literally kill you." Sam replied sarcastically. His brother never was one for eating healthy, though it was more difficult to do so when you were always traveling.

"Whatever, I'm starving." Dean said. He took the next exit off the highway and drove about a mile to the Wendy's. He hadn't even bothered to read what town they were in, but he knew they were only a few hours from Salem, Massachusetts.

Dean went in to use the john, while Sam grabbed his laptop. Dean ordered his bacon cheeseburger while Sam settled for a Chicken Sandwich. He opened the computer and navigated to a specific site.

"So, whatcha got?" Dean asked him.

Sam scrolled down the web page. "There have been three ritualistic murders in Salem." He explained. "Three witches were killed in what look like some kind of sacrificial ritual. Of course it doesn't say they were witches, just that it's speculated they were involved with the occult."

"I still don't understand why we should be worried about someone killing witches." Dean spoke with his mouth full.

"Maybe they're just Wiccans. Wiccan's aren't necessarily witches and even if they are witches, that doesn't mean they are like any witches we've faced in the past." Sam replied.

"I guess you're right." Dean hated to admit it, but Sam did have a point. "So what kind of ritual are we talking about?"

"It doesn't say. Just that the witches were found near some sort of in a circle of candles with slits on their throats. They bled to death." Sam explained.

"Yikes." Dean replied.

As the evening carried on, things were not calm in Salem. The wind had picked up, whipping leaves through the air. The sun was long gone and the air was crisp and cool. The moon was hidden behind a wall of thick clouds, leaving the city darker than usual. A woman, younger with shoulder length locks of auburn hair, walked in the night air. She had an eery feeling, like maybe someone was watching her. Every time she turned around though, no one was in site. The street she followed was empty of anyone besides her self and a few cars that had driven by.

As she walked, she held her purse tighter and adjusted the zipper on her coat. The air was feeling colder now and that didn't settle the eery feeling she had. Something rustled behind her, but instead of checking to see what it was, she merely picked up her pace. She was breathing a bit heavier now as she hurried down the street to her apartment building. She was walking home from her shift at a restaurant down the street. She didn't usually walk to and from work, but her car had broken down the day before.

A man emerged from the shadows, standing under a street light for a mere moment. He took a few steps towards the woman, cursing under his breath when he trampled a few dry leaves under his foot. The noise nearly echoed on the empty street as he watched the woman pick up her pace. She rounded a street corner and walked out of site, so he picked up his own pace, hoping to catch up to her.

When he reached the corner and peeked around it, his face was met with a can of pepper spray. The woman didn't anticipate the man's tall height, so she had sprayed his lower face and neck. He gagged at the taste, but was glad not to have his eyes sprayed.

Before she could spray again, the man was overpowering her, forcing the pepper spray from her hand. He thrust her back against a building with a hard thud. "Let go." She cried out. His hand reached for her neck, squeezing it tightly. As she struggled for air, he pulled out a small syringe from his pocket, jabbing it into her neck. She cried out in pain, but her cries were muffled from her lack of oxygen. Her vision went hazy and she felt her body going numb.

The man loosened his grip around her neck as she slumped against him. "You are almost too beautiful to sacrifice." He said as softly as he could with his deep voice. He carried her into a nearby alley where his car was and loaded her into the backseat.

He drove across town, to an old manor that had been in his family for many generations. Over the last twenty years or so, it had been pretty neglected though. The roof over the porch looked as though it might collapse. The house foundation was uneven and a few windows were missing a shutter on either side of them. The yard was overgrown, but he didn't care.

He usually didn't bring sacrifices to his house, opting to sacrifice them in their own place of living. He had been watching her for a few days though and she had a room mate. He could not anticipate when the room mate would be home or not, so it was best to just bring the witch to his house.

He carried her to a room in the back of the house that used to be his father's study. His father had long since passed away though and after that, he had turned the room into a sort of altar room. He liked to dabble in black magic on occasion, though he knew his father would be rolling over in his grave if he found out what he had been doing.

He entered the room through a pair of dark stained glass doors and laid the woman on the old brown carpet that covered the floor. Blood stained spots on the carpet where he placed the woman near a wooden altar. A white cloth was laid on the alter that had a sigil drawn out with the blood from one of his previous victims. A bronze chalice sat in it's center and five black candles were placed around the altar forming a huge circle.

The woman was beginning to stir, her green eyes opening and taking in their surroundings. The room was dark, lit by candles and one small lamp. Red paisley wallpaper lined the walls. She tried to sit up, but the man pushed her back down, holding an athame to her throat. Her eyes filled with fear and her heart nearly stopped right then and there. Her jaw clenched as he pushed the knife into her throat. Her eyes met his and they were cold, blank, without emotion. She struggled momentarily, but with one swift move across her throat, the athame made a long cut. She choked as blood flowed from the wound. She was bleeding out.

The man grabbed the chalice from the altar and held it to her throat, catching some of the blood in it. Not too long after, the woman was dead. Her body laid limp on the carpet. The man turned away without any remorse. He cleared his mind of the terrifying look the woman last had on her beautiful face. _She could have been an angel, _he thought. None of his other victims had been so attractive to him. He couldn't think about that though, as she was merely his sacrifice to an evil demon he was trying to bring into the world from Hell. With her dead, he could start his usual ritual of offering a witch to the demon as a sacrifice in hopes of making it stronger and stronger so that he may be able to finally summon it into the world permanently.

Dean and Sam finally made their way into Salem, the wind beating the Impala as it pulled into the parking lot of the Shady Pine Motel. Dean stepped out from the car, a cool breeze causing him to shiver. He walked into the motel to get a room for he and Sam.

The wind continued to beat the Impala as it roared through the night sky. Sam found it to be quite annoying. He couldn't wait for Dean to come back with their room key so they could settle in for the night. They would deal with the case at hand in the morning.

Dean came back to the car with keys in hand. He parked in the closest spot to their room. It was quite a full parking lot though. The motel wasn't anything spectacular, but it was surprisingly busy. He and Sam retrieved a few things from the trunk before heading to the room.

In the night air, Sam could almost see his breath. The wind was fierce, but as he closed the trunk of the Impala, it seemed to stop suddenly, almost as if someone had commanded it. He thought it was odd, but didn't think much more about it.

Dean fumbled with his key, trying to open their motel room. Once inside, he flipped the light switch, revealing a green room complete with two double beds, a nightstand between them, and a dresser with a TV anointed on the center of it. There was a picture above each bed with various forest scenes. Dean sat his bag down near the furthest bed. "Home sweet home." Dean said sarcastically.

"Yeah." Sam replied. "I don't know about you, but I'm beat." He set his bags down in front of the other bed and sat down.

"How can you be beat? You slept for the last half of the drive" Dean shot back.

Sam sighed as he pulled his shoes off. "I think I'm still a little drained after what I went through the last week or so." He admitted.

"Look, if you need a break, if you can't deal with this right now..." Dean started to say, but Sam cut him off.

"No, I'm fine." He assured Dean. Sometimes he hated when Dean was in his overprotective big brother mode and sometimes he was grateful for it. He was not feeling grateful right now though. "I'll be fine by morning. Then, we can get to work and start investigating things."

"What ever you say Sherlock." Dean replied. He had wondered if it had been too soon for Sammy to start hunting again, but they were both eager to be free of Bobby and Castiel for a while. Sam insisted he was up for the hunt and Dean tried to trust that Sam was ok and new what he could and could not handle so soon after reliving all of his memories from Hell.

Sam hit his pillows, falling asleep almost instantly. Sleep wasn't so easy for Dean though. The wind had picked up again, rattling against the big window that went across the front of their motel room. The curtains were closed though, so he couldn't see outside. He flipped on the TV, making sure it's volume was low enough that it didn't wake his brother. He settled on some infomercial for the Sham Wow. Nothing else was on, but Dean got a kick out of watching the idiot in the infomercial rambling on and on like he was selling miracles. After a while, sleep came to him and the infomercial was forgotten.

* * *

I am currently writing chapter 2 and hope to have it up in a few days. I think I'm going to leave the man/killer a mystery for a while as well as who he plans to bring back to the world. You'll find that out in time. Comments are definitely appreciated. Thanks!


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer;** I don't not own Supernatural or the boys.

Here is chapter two. I just want to thank anyone that has read the first chapter and or commented on it. I don't know how long this story will be or when I'll be able to post updates, but I try not to go more than a week without something new. Anyways...enjoy!

* * *

**CHAPTER 2**

The sun started to rise in the early morning sky, though Sam and Dean's motel room remained fairly dark, the TV being the only form of light in the room. Thick brown curtains on the only window in the room blocked out the sun.

Sam rolled over and groaned softly. His internal clock was telling him it was time to rise and shine, but his body was telling him to keep sleeping. He rolled over, pulling his face out from his pillow and settling on his back. He looked at the digital clock on the nightstand, red numbers flashing 7:45 A.M. He sighed and forced himself to sit up. He looked over at Dean, who was lying flat on his back with his mouth gaping open. He reached for one of his dirty socks and tossed it at Dean's face. "Rise and Shine." Sam said to him.

Dean made a gurgled noise as he breathed in the stench from Sam's sock. He rolled over, the sock falling on the pillow and his nose pushing right into it. He gagged once and immediately shot up, his eyes opening wide. He looked down at the pillow and pulled the sock up, making an 'ew' face before chucking it on the floor. "Good one dick face." He replied sarcastically, as Sam made his way for the bathroom.

Sam laughed and kept walking. "I'm gonna hit the shower." He replied, stepping into the bathroom. He closed the door behind him and started the shower.

Dean gave Sam the evil eye, though his younger brother couldn't see it from the bathroom. He glanced at the TV that was still on. It was an early morning news broadcast. A middle aged blonde woman was on location talking into a microphone. "I'm Meredith Warren and we're standing at the corner near the Brookstone apartments," The camera panned over to what looked like a series of brick townhouses. Yellow police tape squared off an area in front of one of the buildings and a row of police officers were blocking the view of anything past the tape. A coroner's van was in the shot as well. Meredith continued. "where a young woman's body was found only a short time ago. Police suspect she was murdered by who many are now calling the Witch Hunter. He's claimed three victims so far, though it is suspected he's also responsible for a slue of similar murders in Atlanta and in New York." She continued on, but Dean flipped off the TV. He had heard enough. It was clear that this 'Witch Hunter,' was probably the one he and his brother would soon be after. That being the case, the woman on the news was the latest victim.

Dean climbed out of bed and figured that while Sam was in the bathroom, he would take the time to change clothes quickly or shirts anyways. He changed t-shirts and pulled one of his typical button up shirts over it.

A short while later, Sam emerged from the bathroom. He was dressed, but his hair was still damp from his shower. He found Dean sitting on the edge of his bed with the computer in his lap, which was almost an odd sight. Dean didn't typically do the research portions of their hunts, though he had done so on a few rare occasions. "Whatcha looking up?" Sam asked him.

Dean glanced up from the computer screen. "There was a murder this morning or sometime last night." He replied. "Killer's been labeled the Witch Hunter." His fingers formed air quotes when he said Witch Hunter.

"So that's our guy?" Sam asked.

"I would assume." Dean said. He closed the computer. "Apparently this witch hunter is suspected in murders that took place in Atlanta and New York." He used air quotes again when he said witch hunter.

"You done with those air quotes?" Sam asked with a tone of annoyance. "How many victims total?"

"Eleven." Dean answered and then elaborated a bit more on the murders. "They all died from blood loss, cut across the throat I guess. Most victims were killed in their own homes and a few victims were found near their homes."

"What, is he going for some kind of record?" Sam replied rhetorically. "Guess we should go talk with the local PD."

Dean rose from the bed. "I'll get suited up." He said as he walked off towards the bathroom.

_Suited up_ Sam thought as he headed to the Impala to get his 'FBI' suite and both of their badges from the trunk. He'd never heard Dean use the phrase 'suited up' before, but it seemed like something his brother might say or like something a super hero might say. To the world Dean was not a super hero though. To the world he was just another human being taking up space and so was Sam.

Sometimes Sam wondered if they deserved the space they were taking up, if they deserved to even be in the world. He didn't think so much about Dean, but mainly himself. Deep down he was a freak, someone with tainted blood. He betrayed Dean in more ways than he can count and brought about the apocalypse by unleashing Lucifer into the world. He did some pretty awful things when he was without his soul, though Dean has always insisted it wasn't really him doing those things.

Sam slammed the trunk and tried to push away his thoughts. He tried to change his demeanor and facial expression before he re-entered the motel room. Dean always had a knack for knowing when Sam was deep in thought by the expression he usually had on his face. He must not have done a good job of changing his facial expression though. "What are you thinking about?" Dean asked him.

Sam rolled his eyes, mainly at himself. "It's nothing." He lied.

"Yeah, I doubt that." Dean replied. "Come on, out with it."

"Dean, it's nothing." He said back, trying to brush it off.

Dean took a step towards him. "You were thinking about Hell weren't you?" He asked, almost demanding to know.

He wished he could just lie to Dean again, but his lies were always what got him into trouble. He couldn't fall back on keeping things from Dean, so he told Dean the truth. "I know this sounds stupid, but sometimes I wonder what I'm really doing here." Sam replied.

"Like, here as in Salem, cause we can pick up and leave if you want. Heck why not go to Disney World. It's the happiest place on earth right?" Dean said, partially being sarcastic.

Sam sighed. "I'm trying to be serious." He replied and then turned away in frustration. "Just forget it."

"No, no." Dean said. "What do you want me to say? You don't know what you're doing here, why you're alive. Do you think I know what I'm doing here, cause Hell if I know. There are people ten times better than I'll ever be and yet I live and they don't. I don't know why either one of us are here, but we are. So, we might as well make the best of things and kill some evil sons of bitches along the way."

"Is that supposed to be some kind of pep talk?" Sam asked sarcastically.

"Call it what you want, we have a killer to deal with." Dean pulled his suite coat on.

"Fine, I'll go get suited up." He said using air quotes.

Dean smiled as Sam walked passed him. "Now who's using air quotes?" He let out a chuckle.

Sam ignored him and changed into his suite. Once ready, he and Dean ventured into the world, heading for the local police station. The sun was bright, not a lot of clouds in the sky. They stopped at a local place for some quick coffee on the way.

At the police station, they asked to speak to the head detective on the witch hunter case. After flashing their badges, a woman at the front desk told them she'd be right back with the detective. She walked off in search of him.

A man in a cheap looking gray suite approached them. His hair was starting to turn gray, more from stress than from age. He didn't really look all that old. "I'm detective Bellock." He said. "It's about time we got some agents out here."

"Ah of course. I'm agent Rossington." Dean flashed his badge. He gestured to Sam. "This is agent Collins."

"Are you the guys that were in New York?" Bellock asked.

Dean gave Sam a quick glance before answering. "No, one of the agents is on medical leave. Had a heart attack I think." He lied. "They put us on the case out here. We're still going over the previous files though, trying to get familiar with the case. So, if we seem a little clueless I deeply apologize."

"Why don't we step into my office so we can talk about the case." Bellock suggested. He motioned for them to follow him back to a sort of conference room. It had a long table in it with three chairs on each side. There was a big dry erase board set up in the room with various pictures on it and information regarding the murders. Some file folders were laid out on the table. "Have a seat."

Dean wasn't thrilled about sitting in a police station, but they needed more information on the case. Technically, he and Dean had been declared dead at one point and at another point they were on a 'Most Wanted' list. Sitting at a police station was really risky for them, but they needed more information on the case that they couldn't simply read in various news reports. The police were keeping some information from the media.

Almost as if Sam had read his mind, he said. "We're pretty busy. Maybe we could just get some copies of all your files." He glanced around the room.

"Sure." Bellock replied. "We can get you some."

Dean motioned to the white board. "Are those crime scene photos?" He asked.

"Yeah, that's Melinda Halliwell." He pointed to one picture of a young blonde woman. Her throat was slit and her neck and chest were covered in dried blood. "She was killed in her own apartment." He pointed to the picture right below it. "This altar of sorts was set up near the body. Candles laid out on the floor around it. Five of them."

In that same picture, Dean saw some sort of red symbol on the altar. "What's that on the altar." He asked curiously.

Bellock reached for a picture on the table and held it up. "We think it's some sort of demonic or wiccan symbol." He explained. "Found one in each home drawn with the victims blood."

"So you think the killer went through all the trouble of setting up this altar with the candles around it and drawing out this symbol before killing each victim?" Sam asked.

"No, we've talked to friends, relatives of each victim and they claim that the victims were Wiccan and that most Wiccans have some sort of altar in their homes for various purposes." He replied. "We think the killer just put out the candles and drew out the symbol."

"Aside from being Wiccan, was there anything else the victims had in common with one another?" Dean asked.

"None that we can see." Bellock answered. "Let me go get you some copies of these files."

"Of course, thank you." Sam said. Bellock walked off and he turned to Dean. "So we've go three different cities, eleven victims total, and they were all Wiccans."

"Yeah and we've got this." Dean held up the picture of the symbol that was drawn in blood.

"Seems to me that these victims are being sacrificed, though I couldn't tell you why until I maybe figured out what this symbol means." Sam replied. "It wouldn't surprise me if it's demonic though."

"Of course demons have to be involved." Dean said. "Why can't it ever just be some whacked out humans."

"Wait, you didn't suspect that demons were involved in the first place?" Sam asked, his eyebrows scrunching together in confusion.

"Well yeah, but if it were just some typical whacko, we could move on, do something else." Dean replied. "Leave it to the cops."

Sam let out small laugh. "And do what, go to Disney World?" He asked sarcastically.

"Well, it is the happiest place on earth." Dean said with a smile.

Detective Bellock came back in the room holding out a set of file folders. "Here's all the copies we have on the case." He said.

Dean cleared his throat. "Right of course." He replied, taking the folders.

"We'll be sure to keep in touch." Sam said before leading Dean out to the Imapala.

The sun was nearly blinding now. Dean wished he had a pair of sunglasses. "What do you say we talk to a few friends and family members of the victims?" He suggested. He climbed into the driver's seat and started up the car. The sun beaming on it made the inside unusually warm.

"Yeah, ok." Sam took his usual place in the passenger seat. "It couldn't hurt."

* * *

Ok, so reviews anyone? If any of you are returning readers (and I know at least one of you are), I hope you like this story as much as you liked the the first one.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Charmed or Supernatural.

Not a lot of comments so far or returning readers from my first story, but I'm not letting it discourage me. Here is the next update. You learn a little more about why these witches are being killed.

* * *

**CHAPTER 3**

The Impala roared down the road as Dean drove to the apartment of the latest victim. Her name was Peyton Brennigan. She was the woman on the morning news who was found near her apartment with her throat slit.

Dean parked just down the street from the apartment building. Part of the area near the building was still roped off with police tape and he couldn't park closer because of it. He and Sam walked to the Brookstone apartments. They seemed more like townhouses with a row of three buildings connected. Each building had one apartment upstairs and one on the main floor. Peyton's was in the middle unit on the second floor. Her roommate, Anna, answered the door.

"Can I help you?" She asked curiously.

Sam and Dean both flashed their badges. " Agent Rossington with the FBI." Dean said. He motioned to Sam. "This is agent Collins. We have some questions we'd like to ask you about Peyton."

"Oh, um, come on in I guess." Anna opened the door so they could enter. Dean couldn't help but notice how much Anna seemed to resemble the demon Meg, or her first meat suite anyways, with her shorter blonde hair and her body stature.

Sam glanced around the apartment, noticing an altar on one wall just across from a small dining table. A TV and couch were on the other side of the room. "How long have you and Peyton been living together?" He asked.

"A little over a month." Anna answered. She sat at the table, so Sam and Dean did the same. "We've been friends since grade school though. She moved here to Salem with her parents when we hit high school and I got a job out here, started a few weeks ago actually. She said I could stay here with her until I can find a place."

"I know this is hard for you, but has she mentioned anything strange happening lately or maybe she ran into someone unusual? Does she have any enemies maybe?" Dean asked.

"I don't know if anything strange has happened, but there was someone at work that was rallying against her." Anna explained.

"Who would that be?" Sam asked.

"A guy named James Grey. He's a new janitor." Anna said.

"Why was he rallying against her?" Sam continued to question.

"Well, as if you couldn't tell already, Peyton was a Wiccan." Anna pointed to the altar. "That's her altar where she does various rituals and things of that nature. I'm still learning the craft a bit, so I'm kind of clueless, but James found out she was a Wiccan and assumed she was a witch. So, he went to the school board, asking them if they wanted evil witches teaching the city's children."

Dean remembered something that Sam had said the day before. Just because a person practices Wicca, doesn't mean they are a witch, not in the evil sense he and his brother were used to dealing with anyways. "Was your friend a witch?" Dean asked.

Anna shrugged her shoulders and sighed. "Yeah, I guess. Not in the Charmed sense though." She answered.

"Charmed?" Dean asked in confusion.

Sam looked over at Dean. "It's a TV show that aired about three sister witches who battled evil." He explained.

"And how do you know this?" Dean wondered, though deep down he wasn't surprised at his brother for knowing about some show called Charmed. His brother was usually full of useless knowledge.

"Look, she wasn't fighting demons or anything. She didn't have any crazy powers, like telekinesis or orbing. She was basically just a nature lover and most of her rituals were to help her students and to help the growth of our garden out back. She wasn't casting spells on people. That kind of stuff just isn't real." Anna explained.

Dean wondered what kind of power orbing was supposed to be, but he didn't ask. He had never seen the show Charmed and didn't plan on ever seeing it. "Ok, well I think that's enough questions for now. We'll be in touch if we have any more." He said.

"Wait, I heard that whoever this killer is, he's been targeting people like Peyton. Is that true? Is he after witches?" She asked.

"We're not really allowed to discuss the case." Sam replied. "Thank you for your time though."

Once outside, Sam loosened his tie as he walked with Dean back to the car. "Maybe this James Grey knows something about what happened." He said.

"I don't know about him. I mean, do you think he killed her?" Dean asked, but continued without waiting for an answer. "Do you think he's our serial killer? She was killed like the other victims, knife to the throat, blood loss."

"Yeah, but she wasn't killed in her home like the other victims. She wasn't killed at her own altar." Sam replied.

"Yeah, but she had a roommate. Might be hard to kill someone in the home unless you killed the roommate too." Dean explained. "There were a couple other victims that were found just outside the home. They had roommates too."

"Ok, we don't really know if James has any involvement in this, so lets just question him for now. We can argue who the killer is later." Sam said.

"Good idea." Dean replied. They both climbed in the car. Sam pulled out his cell phone and called the police station and explained who he was before asking for the address of James Grey. When one was given, he wrote it out on a small pad of paper he had pulled from his suite coat and instructed Dean on where to drive.

As Dean pulled up to James Grey's house, he was a bit surprised. It had the look of some of the abandoned or condemned places that he and his brother had squatted in a few times. The house was obviously very old and the yard was mostly overgrown around the home. A few shutters were missing on some of the windows and the porch didn't look like it was going to stand much longer. Dean parked on the street in front of the house.

"I wonder how a janitor managed to afford a house like this?" Sam asked as he stepped out from the car.

Dean looked at him confused. "What do you mean? This place is a dump." He said back.

Sam looked the house over one more time. "It's classic Victorian architecture." Sam explained. "Even in this state, some Victorians can be very pricey."

"Wow, my vary own encyclopedia Britannica." Dean mumbled

"What?" Sam asked, not sure he heard right.

"Nothing." Dean replied. "Could be a family home. Maybe he inherited it."

They both stepped through the front gate. "Yeah and I'm sure he inherited that Porsche too." Sam said as he gestured to the driveway. A sparkling red Porsche sat in the gravel driveway just in front of a detached garage.

Dean was leery of stepping on the dilapidated porch, but did so anyways. He reached for the doorbell, pushing it once. Sam stood a few feet from Dean on the porch. He reached forward, trying to peak into one of the windows. Thick blinds kept him from seeing anything though.

A man about Dean's height opened the door. "Yeah, what do you want?" He asked. The door was only open far enough for them to make out the man's face. He was probably in his late twenties with piercing blue eyes and longer black hair. He had a look of annoyance on his face, like Sam and Dean were interrupting something.

"We're with the FBI." Dean said. He flashed his badge quickly. "Are you James Grey?"

"Yeah, that's me." He stepped outside, closing the door behind him.

"We'd like to ask you a few questions about Peyton Brennigan." Sam said.

"Well I don't have anything to say about her." James replied.

"She was found dead this morning. Someone slit her throat and killed her." Dean explained. "You know anything about that?"

"Look, I heard about her on the news, but I didn't kill her and don't know who did." James didn't kill her, but he knew who did. He wasn't about to cough up a name though.

Sam shifted on his feet. Something seemed off about James, but he couldn't place what it was. The man seemed a little fidgety, on edge. "We understand that you're a janitor at the school where she worked and that you tried to get her fired for her religious views." He said.

"That woman was a witch, a satanist. Can't have her teaching our kids." James replied.

"So I take it you're not upset that she's dead?" Sam asked.

"I just wanted her out of the school, I coulda cared less if someone killed her." He said with somewhat of a stutter. The more he talked, the more fidgety he seemed to get.

"Do you have an alibi for last night?" Dean asked.

"I was with a girl all night. I have a receipt to prove it." James replied.

"A receipt?" Sam asked curiously and then, he thought for a moment. _Hookers give receipts? _"Never mind. Who's Porsche is that in the driveway?"

"It's my brother's car." James said.

"And the house?" Dean asked.

James' hands went out in annoyance. They were shaking quite frantically in protest. "What does this have to do with Peyton?" He asked back.

"We're here about her murder, so you might want to answer our question before we arrest you as a suspect." Sam said sternly. Dean gave Sam a curious look. They had never threatened to arrest someone before. Of course, that was mainly because they weren't really federal agents.

"Alright, alright. It's a family place." He answered. "My brother inherited it after our father died. Anything else you wanna know?"

"No, that should do it for now. Thanks." Dean replied.

After Sam and Dean left, James made his way back into the house. He slammed the door in anger, a picture on the wall nearby rattled as he did so. He walked back to the kitchen where his twin brother stood at the sink, cleaning blood from his athame. "You killed her didn't you, Nathan?" He asked.

Nathan turned to his brother, his icy blue eyes shimmering in the kitchen light. His hair was shorter than James' and his voice was deeper. "What are you talking about?" He asked, sensing his brother's anger.

"Those were FBI agents. They were asking about Peyton, the teacher from school." James replied. "As soon as I saw her on the news this morning, I prayed that you weren't involved, but she was killed the same way as your other victims."

"When are you going to learn that prayer is not going to get you anywhere?" Nathan asked. "Our father was a bible thumper and he prayed every day. Look where it got him, he was ran over by some drunk. All the times you've prayed in the past and he still beat us regardless."

"He beat us because you fought him, because you pushed god away." James argued. "And now you're worshiping some, some demon."

"This demon has done more for me than our father ever did. He's given me money, friends, a life." Nathan argued back.

"And what, all you have to do is kill for him?" James asked.

"No, I don't kill for all of that. I kill because it requires sacrifices to bring the demon into this world from Hell." Nathan explained.

"What?" James snapped. "Have you gone off the wagon?"

"With all he's done for me, that's the least I can do for him." Nathan replied. "I have to sacrifice thirteen witches in order for him to break free from Hell."

"So that's why you've been murdering all of these woman? If it weren't for that incident in Kentucky, I would have gone to the police a lot sooner, but to Hell with that. I don't care who knows about Kentucky." James said. "I'm turning you in."

James had been drinking and driving in a small town of Kentucky. He had been living there for a few months. Nathan had come to visit him and they had gone out for a few drinks. A few drinks turned into many drinks, until he was more than over the legal limit for alcohol consumption. As he drove home, a young woman in a flowing dress, stood on the side of the road waiting to cross. In his drunken haze, he thought she was in the middle of the road. So, he swerved to miss her and struck her head on, killing her instantly. Her small frame didn't stand a chance against his SUV.

James fled the scene with his brother and no one pieced together who had killed the poor woman. Nathan told James that his secret was safe, that he wouldn't tell a soul. When James found out what Nathan had been doing though, his first instinct was to squeal, but Nathan reminded him what had happened in Kentucky and said he would tell the police in a heartbeat if he ratted him out. He didn't know why his brother was killing woman, but he didn't question it once Nathan had threatened him. Now that he knew what was really going on though, that his brother was trying to resurrect a demon, he had to stop him. He had to go to the police.

As he walked from the room, Nathan placed an arm around his neck, pushing the cold blade of his athame to his brother's throat. "I can't let you do that. I only have two more sacrifices left." He said. "You can't stop what I'm doing." He guided his brother back in to the kitchen as he held the athame to his throat.

"What are you going to do, kill me?" James asked his brother.

"It's a thought." Nathan replied. He opened the basement door that was on the far side of the kitchen. He shoved his brother down the stairs. "Why don't you just get comfortable down there. I think you're going to be there a while." James went flying down the stairs. He tried to keep his balance, but his legs gave out and he tumbled down the last few stairs to the basement floor. Nathan slammed the door and pulled out an old key, locking it firmly.

* * *

So, Sam and Dean don't learn too much, just that James Grey had some issues with one victim. In case you couldn't tell his house was the same house in the first chapter. His brother seems to be this killer, though Sam and Dean don't know that yet. Comments are always appreciated. Thanks!


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Supernatural or the boys.

I don't know if any of you watched the show Charmed, but I couldn't help it when I included a reference to the show in my last chapter. That's one of my other favorite shows. Anyways...thanks for the reviews. I don't know how I'm going to get through another hiatus, but I can't wait till the show comes back in April.

* * *

**CHAPTER 4**

The moon hung high in the night sky. Dean had left Sam at their motel so he could go off and get a few drinks at a local bar down the street, leaving Sam to his research. It was pretty typical of him, but Sam didn't necessarily mind this time. A strong wind plastered against the window of their motel room and was starting to annoy Sam.

He was researching James Grey and trying to find out whatever he could about the family. Something seemed off about James when they had questioned him earlier. Sam found some old news paper articles online about a Peter Grey. He was a pastor at a local church and father of twins, James and Nathan Grey. A teacher found some bruises on one of the twins and suspected child abuse. An investigation ensued and the boys were taken out of their home for a few weeks. Eventually, police and child services decided that there was not enough proof to determine whether the boys bruises were from abuse or just the fact that they were very active boys who rough housed a lot. Despite getting cleared of any allegations of child abuse, Peter was ostracized and pushed out of the church.

Another article detailed the former pastors death. About a year ago, his car broke down when he was on his way home from a late shift at the factory he had started working at once he was pushed out of the church. Police speculated the he must have gotten out of the car to check the engine and that was when a drunk driver ran him over. Peter died en route to the nearest hospital. His wife had already passed on from cancer months before and he was survived only by his twin boys.

On another website, Sam found some information about Nathan. He was a resident of New York for a few years. At the end of April in 2010, he won the state lottery and ended up with almost ten million dollars. A few weeks before that, he had gotten a big promotion at the ad firm he was working for. Sam double checked the dates for the murders in New York and as it turned out, they had started just before Nathan had received his promotion and won the lottery. He thought that maybe it was a coincidence, but when was anything just a coincidence?

Sam pulled a picture out from the police file. It was the symbol that had been drawn out on each victim's altar. He searched online for various Wiccan symbols and he didn't see anything that really seemed to match it. On instinct, he decided to look for any kind of demonic symbols that matched it. _"What the hell, this can't be right."_ Sam thought to himself. He found the symbol on a website about various demons. It was the sigil of a demon known as Belial.

Sam picked up his cell phone and called Bobby in a panic. Bobby answered with a 'Hello' and Sam didn't even bother to greet him back. "What do you know about a demon named Belial?" He asked. "I'm reading something about him being a king of Hell."

"Sam?" Bobby asked back.

"Who else did you think it was?" Sam replied.

"Oh. Yeah, he's some kind of king in Hell, commands something like eighty legions of demons." Bobby explained.

"Is it possible for someone to summon him?" Sam asked.

"Well I don't know if he can be summoned, but there are accounts of people making offerings and sacrifices to the demon in exchange for various things." Bobby said. "He's stronger than most demons though. It would probably take a lot to summon him."

"What do you mean it would take a lot to summon him?" Sam wondered.

Bobby thought for a moment before answering. "It would take a lot of sacrifices I guess." He explained. "He's supposed to be a fallen angel, second to Lucifer."

"Second to Lucifer?" Sam questioned in disbelief. "You don't think that someone could be killing these witches as a sacrifice to the Belial do you?"

"Well, it would probably take a blood sacrifice and the witches all bled to death right, slash across the throat?." Bobby said. "Let me check a few books and get back to you though."

"Yeah, ok." Sam replied. "Thanks."

Sam hung up the phone and made his way to his bed. He flipped on the TV and started channel surfing. When Dean walked into the motel room, Sam was sound asleep with the remote still in hand. Dean took the remote and set it on the table near Sam's laptop. It was still open and the internet was still on the website that showed the sigil of Belial. Dean read a few lines on the page immediately began to worry. According to what he read, Belial was a powerful king in Hell. As he settled into his own bed, he found himself praying that some dumb sucker wasn't trying to summon the demon into the world. It wasn't like they didn't have enough demons to deal with as it was.

Dean couldn't seem to fall asleep. It wasn't from lack of trying though. He kept thinking about Belial and that being a king of Hell probably made him some bad ass demon that was more powerful than most they've come across. Finally, around two in the morning, he started to doze off.

That next morning, Sam's phone rang bright and early. He reached for it on the nightstand and started pressing random buttons, hoping it would shut up. Then, he heard someone speaking faintly. He tried to ignore it, but the sudden yell officially woke him and made him realize that someone had called. He picked up the phone and answered. "Yeah." He said as he rubbed his eyes with his other hand.

"You done snoring over there?" Bobby asked.

"What, I don't snore." Sam argued. "Yeah, sorry. Did you find anymore on the demon?"

Dean stirred on his bed when he heard Sam talking. He hadn't even noticed the phone had rang. He yawned and stretched his arms out.

"I found a few myths about Belial. One claimed that a blood sacrifice of thirteen witches can bring him into the mortal world. The last witch is to be killed under a full moon." Bobby explained. "Says when he comes into the world, he can take a human host like any other demon. Even before taking human form, he can also give favours and gifts to those who worship him, but he also tends to turn on his worshipers."

"So, whoever is killing these witches, they're doing it as a sacrifice to bring Belial into the world?" Sam asked, more like assumed. Dean looked at Sam with a slight hint of fear smeared across his face.

"That would be my best guess." Bobby answered.

"Ok, thanks." Sam said before hanging up.

"Someone's killing witches to summon some kind of demon?" Dean asked Sammy.

Sam looked over at his brother. "Yeah and he's not just some demon. He's a king of Hell who has something like eighty legions of demons at his disposal." He explained.

"Shoulda gone to Disney World." Dean mumbled as he climbed out of bed.

"What?" Sam asked.

"Huh, nothing." Dean replied. He walked towards the bathroom. "I'm gonna hit the shower."

Sam turned on the TV and flipped channels until he found a local morning news broadcast. After the local weather man rambled on about the strange weather that had been occurring in Salem, a woman came on and addressed another murder. A young woman was killed in her home, a victim of the 'Witch Hunter.'

Sam ran a hand through his hair as he did a mental count of the victims. That would make twelve victims. If the myth Bobby read about was true, it would only take one more victim to bring back Belial. It had to be done under a full moon though and the next one was that evening. That meant they only had one day to figure out who the killer was.

In a panic, he jumped from the bed and ran to the bathroom. "Dean, we gotta problem." Sam said, as he pushed the door open just enough to peek his head in.

"Dude, I'm in the shower." Dean replied.

"Yeah and the Witch Hunter claimed another victim." Sam explained. "If what Bobby said is accurate, one more victim and the demon's free."

Dean pulled the shower curtain back a little and his head looked out at Sam. "What did Bobby say?" He asked.

"He said that there was a myth stating that thirteen witches would need to be sacrificed, the last being done under a full moon." Sam explained. "The Witch Hunter's claimed twelve victims."

"When's the next full moon." Dean asked.

"Tonight." Sam replied.

"Alright, let me finish in here and we can deal with things." Dean said. He pulled his head back and let the curtain fall closed again.

When Dean finished with his shower, he and Sam put their suites on and headed down to the latest crime scene. Maria Goran was murdered in her home. Estimated time of death was around three that morning.

Dean went in to question police and take a look at the crime scene. Sam stayed outside and canvased the immediate area surrounding the house. Nothing in the yard seemed to be out of the ordinary though. He glanced out at a crowd of on lookers and neighbors that had gathered just out side of the police perimeter. One face in the crowd stuck out to him. He thought it looked like James, but his hair was different.

He walked quickly to the crowd. "James." He called out. The man immediately turned and headed away from the crowd. "James." Sam pushed through some of the people, but by the time he made his way through them, the man was speeding away on a motorcycle.

"You know, that was actually Nathan." A man spoke from behind Sam. "Don't know what he's doing out here though."

Sam turned around and immediately looked down at the man, meeting a pair of green eyes. The man was significantly shorter than he was, almost making him feel like some kind of giant. "You know the Grey twins?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, used to be friends with them until they moved away." The man said. "You're one of those FBI guys aren't you?"

"Agent Collins." Sam replied. "You said they both moved away?"

"James spent some time in Kentucky I think it was. He moved there about four years ago." The man explained. "Nathan went to New York, became a residence and lived there for about seven years. Even won the lottery. I heard he went to Atlanta some time later and won even more money at some casino. He came back here when his father died, so did James."

"So Nathan lived in New York and in Atlanta?" Sam asked.

"Yeah. I'm sure you already know that he lived in Atlanta, being he was a suspect and all." The man said.

"A suspect?" Sam questioned.

"You guys must be new to the case, cause he was questioned in Atlanta for one of the murders." The man explained. "His girlfriend was one of the victims."

"Right, I knew that." Sam lied. "Thanks." Sam walked off quickly, heading to the Impala. He reached inside for the police file they had on the murders. He reread the portion of the files that entailed the murders in Atlanta. Sure enough, Nathan had been a suspect in one of them. He was dating one of the women that were murdered, but supposedly had an alibi for the evening of her murder. Apparently, he was quite surprised to find out that his girlfriend of only three months had been dabbling in the occult. He had no idea that she was a supposed witch and seemed to be devastated after he lost her.

Dean made his way out to the car, finding Sam already waiting for him. "Same M.O. as all the other at home victims. Same sigil drawn out in blood. Cut across the throat." He explained. "What'd you find out?"

"Nothing unusual in the yard. Nathan Grey was in the crowd of on lookers though." Sam replied.

"Nathan?" Dean questioned.

"That's the twin brother of James. I thought it was actually James until someone in the crowd told me otherwise." Sam explained. "I think he may be our killer though."

"Why's that?" He asked as he climbed into the Impala.

Sam did the same before replying. "Nathan lived in New York at the same time the murders started happening. Shortly after the first murder, he got some big job promotion, than he wins the lottery. Bobby said that the demon can grant favors and give out gifts to those who worship him. Maybe it's a prize for the sacrifices. Than he moved to Atlanta, where he was actually a suspect in one of the murders. He also won a bunch of money there too, at some casino."

"So he was in both places when the murders occurred?" Dean asked.

"Seems like it." Sam said. Dean started the Impala and pulled away from the curb. Slowly rain drops started to strike the windshield. The sky was turning a dark gray. Sam looked out at the dreary sky and wondered how they would stop Nathan from claiming his final victim, if they even could stop him. If Belial was brought into the world, how would they stop the demon? Would they even be able to?

* * *

So, I researched this demon Belial and for the most part, tried to stick with what I read about him. I did however make up the bit about the 13 witches needed to be sacrificed in order to bring him into the mortal world though. I thought it would make it more interesting than just some typical summoning ritual. Feel free to let me know what you thought. Thanks!


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Supernatural or the boys.

Thank you for the reviews. In this chapter the boys are scrambling to find Nathan and stop him from summing the demon. You'll see how well that goes as you read through the chapter. Also, these darn hiatuses really piss me off. I wish it was April 15th already.

Ok...to add in, I've been trying to post this for two days now. Fanfiction keeps giving me some crazy error message. Lets hope it posts this time...

* * *

**CHAPTER 5**

Dean stopped the Impala just down the street from the Grey's old Victorian house. He and Sam stepped out and went to the trunk, each grabbing a weapon. Dean reached for his usual Colt, checking the clip before slipping it into the back of his pants. Sam reached for his usual gun and did the same thing.

"So, how are we supposed to stop this guy?" Sam asked Dean. "We can't just go in and kill some random person."

"Who says?" Dean asked back. He slammed the trunk closed.

"Dean, that would be murder and it wouldn't make us any better than he is." Sam said.

Dean rolled his eyes as they started down the street towards the house. "I know, Sam." He said. "We just need to keep him from murdering his last victim, keep him from summoning the demon."

They both approached the old house. Sam walked up and rang the doorbell. After several moments, he tried again and even knocked on the door a few times. "Guess he's not home." Sam said.

Dean walked off the porch. "We should check around back." He replied. Sam followed him as he walked around the house. The yard was hard to navigate through, as it was far too overgrown. There were fresh tire treads on the driveway, yet the Porsche that had been there the day before had not seemed to have moved at all.

Dean walked back to the garage. It looked newer, more modern than the house itself. It was probably built long after the house was. He and Sam peeked in one of the windows. "That's the motorcycle I saw earlier." Sam said, when he noticed it in the corner of the garage.

"Looks like an expensive model." Dean turned away from the garage, heading for the back porch to the home. He knocked on the door and peeked through a window on it. It looked like there was a door just to the left and straight ahead was the kitchen. "I guess no one's home."

Sam caught up with him on the porch. He pulled out his little lock picking kit. He had almost forgotten it was even in his pocket. He reached for the door and picked the lock. The breeze in the afternoon air started to pick up as Sam opened the door so they could escape into the house.

The kitchen was highly outdated with it's old wood cabinets, but the room was clean and well kept. Sam ventured into the front room, which was filled with expensive items. There was a sixty inch TV over the fireplace. There was a set of shelves on either side of the fireplace, with full surround sound equipment, a blu-ray player, and various game systems. On the coffee table was an Alien-ware laptop, which was an expensive, high end gaming computer. Sam only recognized it because one of his buddies in college used to have one.

Dean remained in the kitchen, opening a pair of stained glass doors that lead to a room on the left. "Sam." He said as he took notice of the dark red spots that stained the carpet. More than likely it was blood. There were candles laid out in a circle on the floor. An altar stood in the middle of the room. A cloth on the altar had the sigil of the demon drawn out in blood. He assumed that that was where Nathan had planned on summoning the demon.

Sam entered the room. "What is it?" He asked. He took in the sight before him. "Oh."

"Looks like he's into some pretty dark magic." Dean replied. He pulled a book out from a shelf in the corner. "Mastering the Dark Arts, Demonology: An Encyclopedia of Anything Demonic." Those were just two of the titles Dean read out loud.

"It looks like he might summon the demon here." Sam said. "This is probably where he killed Peyton."

Both brothers froze when they heard a noise in the front of the house. The door bell rang. Sam leaned his head out from the room where he and Dean stood and tried to peek into the front room. He couldn't see out to the porch because of the heavy blinds that hung in the windows.

"We should get out of here." Dean said softly. They both headed to the back door, closing it behind them. "I think you should stay behind and keep an eye out in case Nathan returns."

"Why, what are you going to do?" Sam asked.

"I'm going to go in town and see what I can find out about Nathan or who his next victim might be." Dean replied. "If he comes home, just call me and I'll come right back."

"Fine, I'll just hide out in the bushes or something." Sam said, though he didn't really like the idea of sitting in the bushes, especially with the way the wind had been picking up. It was nearly ice cold and as it hit his cheek, it felt like someone was slapping him.

Dean headed back to the Impala and drove into town. Sam settled in a bush across the street from the house. He wasn't so much in the bush, but behind it, using it to shield himself from being seen. He must have sat for what seemed like hours. The sun had set a while ago now and the moon was shining brightly, uncovered from the clouds that loomed in the distant sky. Sam wished he had changed from his suite into his normal jeans and shirt, but he hadn't realized he was going to be stuck sitting on the ground for hours waiting. His suite wasn't very comfortable for lounging in though.

Sam looked up at the bright, full moon and a wet drop fell upon his forehead, followed slowly by more and more drops. It was starting to rain. _Just great, _he thought. He pulled out his phone, intent on calling Dean to rescue him from the rain. He glanced quickly at the house and saw a big sedan pulling into the garage. Sam couldn't tell who the man was that emerged from the car, but he assumed it was probably Nathan. He was pulling something from the trunk of the car. It looked like a body.

_No, no, _Sam thought, assuming it had to be a victim, though he had no idea if the victim was already dead or still alive. He looked down at his phone and quickly dialed Dean's number, getting voice mail almost immediately. "Shit, Dean answer the phone." He said in frustration. "Nathan's back and he's got someone with him." He ended the call and quickly, but quietly shot out from behind the bushes. He couldn't wait for Dean.

Nathan carried his final victim over his shoulder as he walked to the back porch of his old family home. He fumbled with his keys as he juggled her on one shoulder, finally unlocking the door and stepping in from the rain that had just started. He walked into his father's old office with a curious look on his face. He hadn't remembered leaving the doors wide open. He dropped his victim on the floor with a thud, but she didn't wince in pain or make a sound. She was out cold. He had drugged her just like he had drugged Peyton and a few of his other victims.

Though he had a knife lodged in one of his boots, Nathan stepped into the kitchen and reached for a pan that sat on the old stove. Since he had been back in his old family home, he not once left the doors open to his father's old office. He assumed that someone must have been in the house at some point and that maybe they still were. He ventured into the front room and was going to check the second story for any intruders, but a noise in the kitchen caught his attention. Someone was in the kitchen.

Sam walked into the kitchen and saw a woman slumped on the floor in the room to the left. He had his gun drawn, ready to defend himself as he entered the room. He reached down and felt a faint pulse on the woman's wrist. She didn't seem to have any injuries, so he assumed that Nathan must have drugged her. Where was Nathan though?

Sam turned and headed back into the kitchen in search of Nathan. He was met with a sharp pain to the front of his head as a pan came into contact with his skull. Everything went black for Sam and he slumped the ground, releasing his grip on the gun.

Nathan pulled the pan back and kicked the gun away from Sam's body. He had recognized him from earlier in the day. He was at Maria Goran's house investigating. He reached down into Sam's pockets, pulling out a wallet and his FBI badge. His badge claimed him to be an Agent Collins, yet his Kansas driver's license claimed him to be a Samuel Winchester.

Sam's eyes started to flutter open. He had a splitting headache and unbeknownst to him, there was a gash on the side of his forehead with dried blood crusted around it. His eyes focused on the flame of a candle that was lit on the floor. His vision was hazy and as it started to clear, he saw a figure knelt on the floor. It was Nathan. He had the woman in his arms and with one swift movement, he had sliced across her throat with an athame. "No." Sam screamed as he struggled against the ropes that held him firmly to the chair he had been placed on. If he had a dollar for every time he had found himself tied to a chair, he would probably be rich.

The woman struggled to breath for a few moments as the blood gushed out from the wound in her neck. She choked a few times and in a matter of moments, she was dead. Nathan let her limp, bloody body slump against the floor. "I see you're awake." He said to Sam. "Should I call you Sam or Agent Collins?"

"What you're doing is dangerous, not to mention stupid." Sam replied.

"And what is it you think I'm doing?" Nathan asked.

"You're trying to summon a demon, Belial is it?" Sam said. He struggled against the ropes again. "You don't know what you're doing."

"Oh, I know exactly what I'm doing." Nathan replied. "You know I was going to offer up my brother for the demon to use as a vessel or sorts, but I think I'll offer you up instead."

Dean walked into their hotel room, wondering why Sam hadn't called yet. Surely Nathan must have returned home already. Besides that, it had started to rain softly and he didn't picture Sam sitting in the rain all that time without complaint. He pulled his cell phone out from his pocket and cursed at it when he noticed it had turned off. His battery must have died, causing the phone to shut off. Dean reached into his bag for the charger and plugged his phone in so he could turn it on. Once on, he found a voice mail from Sam. _Damn it, _he thought angrily. He dropped the phone, leaving it on the nightstand as he ran out to the Impala.

Dean had spent the afternoon at the police station, learning what he could about the Greys. He had talked with some supposed friends of Nathan, asking where he might have been, what places in town he liked to frequent. He hoped to find the man before he could claim his next victim, but he couldn't find him anywhere. He planned on heading straight to Sam, but stopped at their motel on the way so he could change out of his suite and into his usual attire. Clearly, that wasn't going to happen now.

He climbed in the old car, it's door creaking as he pulled it closed. He started up the engine and tore out of the parking lot. He wasn't sure what time Sam had left the voice mail on his phone, but he had a bad feeling that something was happening to his younger brother.

"To the demon Belial, I offer up this sacrifice." Nathan said, referring to the corpse on the floor. "Thirteen witches I've offered to you. Now under the full moon, I summon thee. I offer this man as your living host." He set a bowl on the altar with various ingredients in it. Sam couldn't tell what they were from where he was sitting. Nathan took the athame and sliced the palm of his hand, letting his blood drip into the bowl. He pulled a book from the book shelf and opened it to a specific page, reading from it some sort of Latin summoning spell.

Sam had never heard it before and couldn't comprehend the meaning behind any of the words spoken. "You don't have to do this." He argued to Nathan, but his words went ignored. "Please don't do this."

Nathan continued his reading, his chanting, as he summoned the demon. The flames of the candles on the floor began to sway, as if a breeze had blown through the room, yet there was no breeze what so ever. Then, the room went black. The flames extinguished from the candles, but Nathan didn't stop. His words continued until the flames burst out from the candles, reaching almost his own height before calming back down to their normal height. A cloud of black smoke hovered over the altar as Sam began to struggle violently against the ropes keeping him to the chair. The smoke rushed towards him quickly and burst through him.

Sam felt like he was being slammed by a brick wall. He was forced backwards into the kitchen, the chair falling down hard against the floor. He was left breathless, but he didn't feel anything strange inside of him. Nathan walked over to him. "Belial?" He questioned.

Sam's hazel eyes looked up at Nathan. "Think again." He replied as he tried to catch his breath.

"What, no. I don't understand." Nathan cried out in disappointment.

"Sorry, but I'm immune to possession." Sam said. The pentacle tattooed on his chest kept him from being possessed. After once being possessed by the demon Meg, he and Dean didn't want to take any chances of it happening again to either one of them. Hence the tattoos they had both gotten on their chests. Of course, Nathan was unaware of the tattoos.

Just a few feet away from them the door to the basement burst out, sending splinters of it flying across the kitchen. Someone emerged from the stairs. "James?" Nathan questioned, as he turned to face his brother. Something seemed different about him though.

"No, he's been placed on the back burner for now." Belial said in Jame's body. He stretched his limbs out, trying to get a feel for his new hosts body.

"But, I don't understand." Nathan replied.

Sam looked at the demon, trying not to show any fear. He wished that Dean had just answered his damn cell phone and maybe then, they could have prevented the demon from being summoned.

"Well you see, the host you offered me has been protected against possession." Belial claimed. He reached for Sam, pulling his shirt away from his chest, his tattoo showing clear as day. "Little Sammy Winchester. I heard about you in Hell."

"I guess I shouldn't be surprised." Sam replied. The demon tilted his chair back up.

After fixing Sam's chair, Belial turned to Nathan. "I want to thank you for all you've done for me. You will be highly rewarded for what you've done." He said.

"But what can you give me that you haven't already?" Nathan asked curiously. He already had loads of money and material items. He had a lot of friends. He could get just about any job he wanted thanks to the demon.

Belial flashed a most evil smile. "I can make sure that your time in Hell is almost pleasant. There will be plenty of torture, but I can make sure you're not put on the rack, which as Sammy here probably knows, is one of the worst forms of torture."

"What?" Nathan asked. His eyes filled with fear.

"Good bye Nathan." Belial twisted his hand out, instantly snapping Nathan's neck.

* * *

So, the demon was summoned. The boys weren't able to stop that, but can they send him back? Please feel free to comment, it helps to motivate me when I'm writing and it helps to inspire future chapters. Anyways...off to watch the Dresden Files now. I liked that show, even if it didn't last passed one measly season.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Supernatural or the boys.

I've got some sad news. There will be one maybe two more chapters after this. It's not nearly as long as my first story. Also, Rufus will be in this story. You have to keep in mind that I did start this story before he died on the show. I had planned to involve him from the beginning. Anyways, thanks for the reviews.

* * *

**CHAPTER 6**

Sam flinched when he heard the sound of Nathan's neck snapping. "Sorry you had to see that, but he wasn't very useful anymore." Belial said. "It's a shame I couldn't take you as a host. You're practically a demon already."

Sam tried to ignore the demon's last comment, though he did tend to think of himself as more or less a freak. "What are you going to do with me?" He asked Belial.

"I'm not sure yet, but I should probably kill you." Belial replied. That comment didn't surprise Sam. Most demons wanted to kill him, they wanted to kill Dean too. "You know, I was excited when I heard that Lucifer had been freed, that he was going to be raging war on the planet, that he and his brother were going to battle it out. Then, I find out you locked him back up again. You released him and than you just shoved him back in. Does that make any sense?"

"No, I was tricked into releasing him. A demon made me think that I could stop his release, that I could kill Lilith before she could release Lucifer." Sam argued.

"The only one tricking you was yourself." Belial argued back. "You are the one that trusted the demon Ruby. She didn't force you to trust her and push your dear old brother away. If your parents had seen what you've done, they would be so ashamed."

Sam struggled in his chair out of anger. "No, you're wrong." He replied.

Dean pulled up to the Grey's house. He parked out front and went in the trunk for some supplies before he ran up the porch. His first instinct was to call out for Sam, but he stopped himself before he got to the door. If someone was hurting Sam, maybe Nathan or the demon he was trying to summon, he didn't want to alert them of his presence. He tried the front door, but it was locked and he was short a lock picking set. Sam had it. He ran around to the back door, keeping low so as not to be seen in any possible windows. He tried the nob and slowly, it turned. He opened the door cautiously and slowly entered.

Belial dragged Sam's chair into the study. "Now, I think it's time you embrace your inner you." He said. Reaching for the athame that Nathan had used to kill his last victim, Belial cut into the side of his arm. Blood flowed freely from the wound, trickling down the side of his arm and dripping to the floor.

Sam's hazel eyes widened in panic as the demon approached him. "No, please." Sam begged. Belial moved closer, dripping blood in Sam's lap now.

Dean heard Sam and stepped in the doorway to the study with his gun in hand. He wasn't sure if he would be dealing with one of the Grey's or possibly a demon, so he had Ruby's knife tucked into his pants and a vial of holy water in his pocket. "Stop right there." He said, as he saw a bleeding man standing over Sam.

Sam was ever so relieved to hear a familiar voice, but his relief was short live when the demon lashed out at Dean. Belial put a hand out and Dean was forced up against a wall. His gun fell to the floor. There was a tight pressure on his chest, almost as if an invisible hand were keeping him there. Clearly the man was no man, but the demon. It had to Belial, as that was who Nathan Grey had planned to summon or so he and Sam had assumed. "Ah, I was wondering when you were going to show up." He said to Dean. "Your always trying to save Sammy."

Dean struggled against the pressure on his chest. "If you touch him..." He trailed off.

"You'll what?" Belial asked with curiosity. "Kill my host? Go ahead, but then I'll be forced to roam around in my true form and that ain't pretty."

The rain outside had turned into a torrential down pour. A loud clap of thunder rattled the old house. The lightening was fierce and though it was heard, it was unseen through the shades in each window of the home.

"Let me guess...ugly horns and long sharp fangs." Dean replied sarcastically.

"You joke at a time like this, when I can crush you in a mere heart beat." Belial said with a twist of his hand. Dean's leg snapped and immense pain shot through it. He tried not to scream out, but he couldn't help himself.

"No." Sam protested. He caught a glimpse of what he thought was Ruby's knife tucked into Dean's pants. Obviously, the demon must not have seen it. "Let him go and you can do what you want to me."

Belial turned to Sam. "What, do you think I'm stupid?" He asked. The door bell rang and Belial muttered something incoherently. He waved his hand out and Dean went crashing into the opposite wall. "Don't go anywhere, I'll be right back."

As Belial walked off, Dean moaned in agonizing pain. He could barely move his leg and his whole body ached now as he slumped onto the floor. Slowly, despite the pain, he tried to crawl to Sam's chair so he could untie him.

Belial opened the door and was greeted by a young woman who was carrying a slightly large box. "What do you want?" He asked angrily.

"Hi, James." She said. She seemed to know the man he was using as his meat suite. "I guess it's a bad time, but the mail man left your package at our house again. I tried to drop it by earlier, but no one was home."

Belial grabbed the package. "You could have left it on the porch." He replied.

"I know, but after that last package of yours was stolen off your porch, I figured I'd just bring it back later. I know it's kind of late, but we leave for vacation tomorrow and it would have been..." She tried to explain, but was cut off.

"Just stop." He said. "I'm busy, too busy to deal with you." He slammed the door in her face and headed back to Sam and Dean. When he entered the room though, Dean was the only one there. Sam's chair was empty, the ropes lying on the floor.

Sam approached Belial from behind. Dean had untied him and handed over Ruby's knife so he could try and gank the demon. Belial wasn't stupid though. He whirled around, suspecting that Sam was coming. The knife came down at him, but his arm went out in defense.

Sam slashed the demon's arm, but he barely flinched. He had cuts on both arms now. "Ow, that hurt." He said sarcastically. His hand reached out to Sam's chest and Sam was forced back against the kitchen cabinets.

Sam crashed into the cabinets and fell forward to the floor, releasing his grip on the knife. "Ah." He tried to force himself up as Belial approached him. A foot collided with the side of his head, forcing the wound he already had to start bleeding again. He was losing focus as his mind was starting to black out.

Dean saw his gun laying on the floor and tried to crawl to it. When he had been forced to drop it earlier, it had partially landed under the bookcase in the corner. If Sam had noticed it, surely he would have taken that as well as the knife. He winced in pain with each attempt at getting the gun, but he tried to contain himself, tried not to let any sounds escape him.

With the gun in hand, he aimed it at Belial's back and shot. Belial immediately straightened himself when the bullet connected with his back. Pain shot through him, but it was only a mere bullet. Bullets couldn't kill him, not his demonic form anyways. He didn't need a host, it was just a choice he had because his demonic form even scarred himself sometimes. It was also easier to blend into the world using a host, a meat suite.

A roar of thunder rattled the house as Belial turned to focus on Dean. Another bullet fired out of the gun, striking his shoulder. He fumbled backwards a step and Sam, fighting the blackness that was trying to invade his mind, took the knife in hand, striking Belial in the leg.

Belial screeched out in pain this time. Dean fired a few more bullets at him, forcing him to his knees. "These bullets will only succeed in killing James Grey and that little knife of yours can't send me back to hell. There's only one way to do that and I'm not going to just sit around while you try to exorcize me." He said to both boys. A hand went out and the gun was forced from Dean. It landed somewhere across the room from him. Belial reached down and pulled the knife out from his leg and chucked it aside. "I think I'll let you live for now, but I've got a few things to take care of. Even a demon has needs." Belial walked out the back door into the storm, blood dripping from each wound in his meat suite's body.

Sam made it to his feet quickly and reached for the knife. Ignoring Dean, he tore after Belial. The demon was already speeding out of the driveway in Nathan's Porsche. His jaw clenched in anger as the rain soaked him. He went back inside to help Dean. "He's gone, but we should get you to a hospital." He said as his head throbbed. He had the worst headache. He probably needed a hospital too.

"No, we have to go after the demon." Dean argued. Sam helped him to his feet, though he couldn't put any pressure on his broken leg.

"You're in no condition to be chasing after demons." Sam replied. "I'm taking you to a hospital."

"We can't go to a hospital." Dean continued to argue.

"Well Dr. Roberts is a little out of the way and I don't know where else to go. We have to get your leg taken care of." Sam said. "I think Rufus is still in the area, maybe he can help us take care of the demon."

Sam dragged Dean through the rain and mud, trying to get him to the car. The lightening lit the way for him in the dark of night. He situated Dean in the back so he could lean against one of the doors and have his leg straight out on the seat. Dean gave Sam the keys and he roared up the engine. He had remembered seeing a hospital sign a few miles from the Grey house, closer to the busier parts of Salem. Hopefully, he could find it ok and get his brother taken care of. He had wounds too, but he wasn't concerned about those. With the wipers on full blast, he tried to stay in his lane as he ventured off towards the nearest hospital.

* * *

Ok, not the longest chapter, sorry. Please review and let me know what you thought.


	7. Chapter 7

This is the last chapter. I know it's not as long as my last story, but I didn't really plan for my last story to be so long...lol. No reviews on the last chapter, so I wasn't really the most motivated to get this up as quickly as my other chapters. Plus, I've been busy getting my husband ready for his 6 month deployment. Anyways...hope you enjoy.

* * *

**CHAPTER 7**

Sam drove through the pouring rain, finally making it to the hospital. He pulled up and stepped through a puddle on his way around the car to get Dean out. He eased Dean into the rain and helped him into the E.R. His head was pounding and the lights in the E.R only seemed to make it worse. After signing in he sat with Dean in the waiting room for only a few minutes before a nurse had come out to get them.

The nurse ushered them both back to triage where they waited even longer to be seen by a doctor. It seems they weren't high on the priority list of patients. Finally another nurse came and took them to a trauma room where the doctor came in almost immediately after. He asked what had happened, but both Sam and Dean had tried to be as vague as they could without seeming suspicious. They obviously weren't going to tell the doctor that a demon had injured them.

Dean's leg required a cast, while Sam required a few stitches on the side of his forehead. He had a minor concussion. The doctor said that they should both be ok though.

While the doctor put Dean's leg in a cast, Sam went out into the rain to call Rufus. The rain plastered him as he reached in his pocket for his cell phone. He dialed Rufus and waited for him to pick up.

"Yeah." Rufus answered.

"It's Sam." He replied. "Are you still near Salem?"

"I'm about an hour away. Why?" Rufus asked.

Sam took in a deep breath before explaining. "Those witches that were being killed were actually sacrifices to a demon. A human was sacrificing them so he could bring the demon into our world and he succeeded. I need someone to help me track down the demon." He said.

"What about Dean?" Rufus replied.

"Dean tried to stop the demon and ended up with a broken leg. I don't have time to explain everything." Sam gave him the layman's version of what had happened. "The demon got away from us and I need your help to stop it."

Rufus agreed to help Sam and they both decided he would meet up with them at their motel room. Sam headed back into the hospital so he could check on Dean. The doctor had finished with Dean's cast and said he was all set for discharge. Sam and Dean skipped out before anyone could ask them for an insurance card.

Sam helped Dean out of the Impala when they arrived at their motel room. Dean had a set of crutches and cursed at himself as he hobbled his way into their room with them. He situated himself on the bed and laid the crutches out on the bed next to himself.

"So now what?" Dean asked.

"Rufus said he would meet us here and help with the demon situation." Sam replied.

"What am I supposed to do?" Dean then asked. He couldn't bare the thought of just sitting around while Sam went out and risked his life trying to fight Belial.

"You're just supposed to sit here and wait. You obviously can't help us." Sam said. "Not with your leg in a cast."

"I hate being useless. I gotta do something." Dean replied.

"You can try and come up with an idea as to where Belial is. Aside from that, there isn't much you can do." Sam shot back.

"Wait..." Dean trailed off. Sam looked at him curiously. "He mentioned something about how even a demon has needs."

"Ok and?" Sam asked.

"Well if I had been trapped in Hell for god knows how long, the first thing I would want to do is get a little, if you know what I mean." Dean explained.

"But you were in Hell and the first thing you did when you got out was look for me and Bobby." Sam replied.

"Only because I had family, I had someone that I knew would want to know I was back." Dean continued to explain. "Belial has probably always been a demon, doesn't have anyone here except for other demons and he had that in Hell too."

"So what, you think this demon found some random girl and started rapping her or he went to what, a strip club?" Sam asked.

Dean was going to reply, but a knock on the motel door stopped him. Sam walked over and opened it, letting Rufus in. "Hey, thanks for coming." He said.

Rufus stepped inside and took a gander at Dean. "Demon got you good I see." He said.

"Yeah." Dean replied with a role of his eyes as he thought, _tell me something I didn't know._

"Do you boys have any leads on where this demon might be or what kind of demon we are actually dealing with?" Rufus asked.

"It's a demon known as Belial." Sam answered. "Dean thinks it might be at a strip joint."

"Belial? As in one of the kings of Hell?" He replied sounding somewhat surprised and terrified at the same time.

"I guess." Sam said.

"And why do you think it's at a strip joint?" Rufus asked Dean.

"He said that even he had needs and because of when he said it and how he said it, I got the idea that he might be craving a little snookie if you know what I mean." Dean explained.

"UGH, now I have an image of the Jersey Shore cast stuck in my head." Sam replied.

"You watch that crap?" Dean asked.

Sam sighed, but Rufus was the one to respond. "I don't know what the Jersey Shore is, but if we're going after this demon, we better do it." He said.

Sam and Rufus went out to the Impala to get some supplies ready, while Dean had Sam's laptop and looked up various strip clubs in the area. He wrote down the addresses and closed the laptop. He was a little angered at the fact that looking up addresses was all he could really do to help at that point. He's broken bones before and he's been injured plenty of times, but not enough to ever keep him from a fight.

Sam went back in for the addresses and headed out in Rufus' car. Rufus insisted on driving. Rufus didn't have any hopes that they would find the demon at a strip club, but eventually they found him at the Tulip Lounge. It was their third stop.

"Why do you get to go inside every time?" Rufus asked.

"Because, the demon will recognize me and hopefully run out the back." Sam explained.

Rufus grabbed his shotgun and a can of white spray paint. "Alright I'll be waiting outback." He walked off so he could get a devil's trap painted on the ground just outside of the back entrance to the lounge. He had done just that at the first two places and it was Sam's hope that the demon would be too quick in trying to escape that he would run out the back without even bothering to check for a devil's trap. Sam also hoped that the demon would think he came after him alone, that he would assume Dean was out of the fight because of his broken leg.

Sam walked into the joint and was taken aback by the stench of something. He couldn't make out what the stench was, but he hit it like a brick wall and took a step back as his nose adjusted to it. A bar sat on the left and just behind that was a stage with a woman dancing. On the right was another stage, one that the men could sit around. Some random guy was shoving bill after bill into one dancers thong on stage. It was alcohol he was smelling, smoke and alcohol.

Sam wasn't fond of strip clubs. He didn't like the idea of using woman in such a manor. He didn't sleep around like his brother did, except apparently when he was soulless. He remembered those times all to well. Deep down he was a bit of a romantic. He wanted love and maybe even a family someday, but those were things that were just out of his reach. He had love once, but he wasn't sure he'd ever have that kind of love again.

He ventured to a corner of the lounge and saw a woman straddling someone in a chair. It was Belial. Sam had his gun and the knife tucked into his pants, but he didn't want to pull them out inside and risk everyone panicking.

Belial saw Sam and shoved the woman into him. He rose from the chair and did just what Sam had hoped he would do and ran towards the back door. He thrust it open and took a few steps out. After taking a few more steps, he was forced back, only to try again and have the same thing happen. He looked down at the Devil's trap and cursed under his breath.

"Didn't expect that, did you?" Rufus asked, stepping out from the shadows.

"Who the hell are you?" Belial asked.

"Just a friend of the Winchesters." Rufus explained.

Sam stepped out behind the demon and pulled out a piece of paper. He started chanting something in Latin as he made his way over to Rufus.

"You can't send me back." Belial argued.

Sam paused his ritual for a moment. "You said there was only one way to send you back and that you weren't going to sit still long enough for us to do it. This is the only guaranteed way to send you back and I don't see you getting out of that trap anytime soon." He continued his ritual, reading aloud in Latin.

Belial lashed out, whipping a hand forward. Though he couldn't leave the Devil's trap, his powers were too immense to be contained within it. Sam and Rufus went flying backwards. Rufus hit a dumpster and Sam landed hard against the ground. The paper in his hand burst into flames.

Belial thought he had averted being sent back to Hell when he burned the paper, but Sam dropped the paper and continued. Sam had done the ritual more times than he could count and had it basically memorized. Slowly, he made his way back to his feet. Belial put his other hand out and twisted. In a mere moment, Rufus was coughing up blood. "Stop or I'll kill him." He said to Sam.

Sam paused and his eyes veered to Rufus. "Just do it." Rufus struggled to reply. So, Sam continued.

Belial could feel himself slowly being forced from his host. He could feel the body dispelling him. His powers were getting weaker. His hold on Rufus wasn't strong now. The host's body began to shake violently as Belial was being forced from it.

Sam continued. Rufus was regaining himself now that the demon had lost his grip on him. His breaths were labored and he could still taste the blood that lingered in his throat and mouth. The demon finally burst free of it's host and was sucked back down to the everlasting pits of Hell. James' body fell to the ground with a thud. Sam reached for the man, trying to find a pulse in his battered body. There didn't seem to be one. He turned away with a sigh and pulled out his phone, calling the police to alert them of the body.

"I'm getting to old for this stuff." Rufus said to Sam as they walked back to his car. He had blood smeared across the front of his shirt from when the demon had a hold on him earlier.

They drove back to the motel and that was where and when they parted ways. Sam thanked Rufus for his help and stood outside for a few minutes before going in to Dean. The rain had stopped some time ago, but a light breeze was flowing through the air. Sam was glad to have sent the demon packing, but he wasn't very happy that they couldn't save a single witch from being sacrificed. They couldn't even save James or Nathan. He wasn't sure Nathan was anyone worth saving though, as he was the one who summon the demon in the first place.

He walked to the Impala and put his gun and knife securely in the trunk. He went to their room and stepped inside. Dean was leaned back against the head board of his bed and was flipping through TV stations as he impatiently waited for Sam to return. He sat up straight as his little brother walked in and immediately started asking questions. "So what happened? Did you find the demon?" He asked.

"Yeah. The demons gone now." Sam answered. He chucked his room keys on the dresser and sat on his bed, shaking his head. "We couldn't save any of them."

"Sam, what are you talking about?" Dean asked, wondering if Sam was about to have a chick flick moment.

"We couldn't save any of those women. We couldn't even save Nathan or James." Sam explained.

"You had to kill James? I thought you were exorcizing the bastard?" Dean was surprised that James was dead.

"We did exorcize him, but James was so battered from before that he just didn't make it." Sam said.

"Sam, we can't save everyone." Dean replied. "We might have been able to save some of those woman, maybe even James and Nathan had we known sooner about the sacrifices. We didn't know though, not until it was too late." It seemed that now that Sam had gotten his soul back, he was starting to question each and every little thing, that he was starting to worry more and think more about life and death. While he was glad to have a souled Sammy back, he wasn't sure he could deal with an overly emotional version of him, one that questioned everything.

"I know." Sam said. "But it doesn't make me feel any better about what happened."

"Maybe we should take a break for a few weeks. No jobs or cases, just you and me on the road. All the driving we've done and I still haven't seen the Grand Canyon. We could stop by D.C. and visit some of those museums or something." Dean suggested. He wasn't much for museums, but he thought it might be something Sammy would like to do.

Sam smiled. "You mean the Smithsonian?" He asked.

"Yeah, whatever it's called." Dean replied.

Sam laughed. "I think I would like that." He said.

"Alright, lets get some rest and we can head out in the morning." Dean flipped the TV off, setting the remote on the nightstand between the beds.

Sam took his shoes off and headed for the bathroom so he could change into something a bit more comfortable for sleeping. He had still been wearing his suite from earlier, though it now needed a good cleaning after all he had been through that evening.

When he settled into bed, he flipped the lamp off. He laid in the darkness and just thought for a while. A trip might be fun, something he and Dean could do without a case getting in the way. They hardly did anything together that wasn't related to a hunt or something demonic. It would be nice to just do something normal for a change. Slowly, his thoughts left him and he drifted off into a peaceful sleep, anxious to start on their vacation the next morning.

* * *

Ok, well that's it. Hope you've enjoyed it. I have another story planned, but don't know when it will ever be uploaded and posted. Thanks for reading and for all the reviews.


End file.
